On any given day, more than a thousand people are detained in Portland at the Multnomah County Jail. Most of them aren't there because they've been convicted of a crime. A disproportionate number of them are people of color.

And that's why Gina Spencer convened a recent meeting just a few blocks away, at the Yamhill Pub dive bar, with three other Portland activists. She's spearheading a community effort to pay bail for black defendants who can't afford it.

"What we're really trying to do is bring light to the fact that the money bail system is unjust, it doesn't work for the poor, it penalizes the poor, and it should be abolished altogether," Spencer said.

In April, just 17 percent of the Multnomah County Jail population was serving a sentence for a conviction. The rest were being held pre-trial, either because they were deemed too great a risk to the community to be released, they were being held for another law enforcement agency, or they couldn't afford to post bail.

"If a judge has deemed that you can be released as long as you can pay this money, then you should be released and treated as innocent until proven guilty," Spencer said.

Defenders of Oregon's bail system say it's much more equitable than other states — and they're right. In 1972, the state Legislature effectively ended the commercial bail bond business by making the court itself the bondsman. Instead of going through a for-profit company, defendants can pay a 10 percent security on their bail to the court, meaning someone can be released on $5,000 bail by paying just $500. After fees and fines, defendants can get most of that $500 back when their cases are adjudicated.

Spencer works as a psychiatric nurse practitioner for jails in Washington, where she's seen the toll incarceration can take on defendants.

"They are in tears and they are worried about where their children are, if they're going to lose their home, if they're going to lose their job," she said. "And medication doesn't treat that."

She moved to Portland last summer from Philadelphia, where she had contributed to a community bail fund that pooled donations to pay bail for people who couldn't afford it otherwise. She reached out to members of Portland's Resistance about creating a local version of the fund.

Their first fundraiser was Black Mama Bail Out, which raised more than $21,000 to bail out black moms ahead of Mother's Day this year. Though black people represent less than 6 percent of the Multnomah County population, they consistently comprise more than 20 percent of the jail's bookings. The county's own studies have found that blacks are overrepresented in its criminal justice system.

But the Black Mama Bail Out provided bail for only two women.

Spencer paid $2,250 for one woman's bail in Washington County, only to learn later the woman had a hold in another county and was transferred to a different jail. Another woman was successfully released from Multnomah County Jail on a $500 payment, but the process of contacting the women, to ask if they wanted the fund's help, was more complicated and time-consuming than Spencer anticipated.

She also ran into a great problem to have: Several women were released before Spencer could bail them out.

Multnomah County is one of four Oregon counties using a risk assessment tool to determine who would be most eligible for pretrial release, allowing some people out without paying bail.

But not everyone has access to those pretrial services. And for those who receive bail, not everyone can afford it.

Exactly how many people remain in Oregon jails for nothing but lack of money remains a mystery. There's no statewide system tracking that data, nor is that something the Multnomah County Jail breaks down.

If jail is meant to detain people considered a risk to the community, why is money part of the equation at all?

Being stuck in jail, even for a few days, can have a devastating effect on someone's ability to keep their job, pay rent, or care for their children. And it can be an incentive to just plead guilty — which will often result in immediate release.

Studies have also shown that bail isn't a factor in whether someone returns to court. The Bronx Freedom Fund, the largest nonprofit bail fund in the country, reports that 96 percent of its clients return for all their court dates, even though the Freedom Fund, not the defendant, is on the hook for the money.

And being out of jail means people have more means to defend themselves. The Freedom Fund reports that 55 percent of its clients' cases result in a dismissal of all charges.

"Requiring money security release to be posted before you can be released has a disparate effect on people who don't have money," said Mike Schmidt, executive director of the Oregon Criminal Justice Commission.

Schmidt said Oregon will be taking a critical look at the use of money bail. The 2017 Legislature tasked the state's Public Safety Task Force with studying "security release in Oregon, focusing on reducing racial and ethnic disparity in pretrial incarceration."

Their first report is due this fall.

Until there's a statewide fix, Spencer is continuing her efforts. She's learned more about how the jail system works and how long it takes to bail someone out. She's continuing fundraising efforts at gofundme.com/portland-bail-out, and using the money remaining from the Mother's Day effort to focus on releasing black men and women from jails in the Portland area and Southwest Washington ahead of Father's Day and Juneteenth, the June 19 holiday celebrating emancipation.

She's already bailed out one father.

If you know someone who could use the assistance of the Portland Bail Out fund, email pdxbailout@gmail.com.